


Inadequate

by Anatui



Series: Inevitable [2]
Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, First Time Blow Jobs, Heartbeats, High School, Japanese Culture, M/M, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya Has Low Self-Esteem, Protective Ichijouji Ken, School Festivals, Secret Relationship, Sleepovers, Smitten Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Yagami Hikari | Kari Kamiya Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22279162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatui/pseuds/Anatui
Summary: "Glowing, Daisuke-kun, you've beenglowing." Takeru sent him a meaningful look. "And you've got a pretty bright blush going on right now.""No, I don't!""Did you get a girlfriend?" he demanded, leaning forward in his chair. "Are you seeing someone?""What? No!" Daisuke's cheeks grew a darker shade of pink. "Why would you think I have a girlfriend?"But Takeru's face broke into a grin. "You are! You're seeing someone. Who is she?""Why didn't you tell us, Daisuke-kun?" Hikari asked, eyebrows knitting together, hurt flashing across her face.Mouth agape, Daisuke didn't know what to say, but after gathering together his thoughts, he finally managed to stutter, "Because there's nothing to tell. I don't have a girlfriend."At least that second part wasn't a lie.ORDaisuke and Ken struggle with figuring out how to tell the rest of the Chosen Children that they're dating.
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Series: Inevitable [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575847
Comments: 16
Kudos: 121
Collections: Ana's 2020 Writing Challenge, Daiken Discord Server





	Inadequate

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled really hard to write this fic because it didn't know what direction it wanted to go. So yes, it's a sequel, but it's decidedly angstier than the first one. AND FOR ONCE IT'S DAISUKE ANGST! There's not enough Ken taking care of/defending Daisuke in the world, and that's pretty much what this morphed into as I wrote it.

On some level, Daisuke had always thought he was inadequate standing next to Ken, but his best friend always made sure that never affected their relationship.

Even now, six days since Ken had asked to kiss him, six days since his world had shifted, Ken saw him as his equal.

Nothing had changed outright, of course. Ken still kicked his ass when they played soccer in the park or video games in Daisuke's bedroom or the one time Ken convinced him to play a game of chess. They still goofed off and watched movies and talked about nothing in particular till four in the morning, which still resulted in Ken getting pissed at him for when he inevitably fell asleep in class. Ken still bullied him into finishing his homework, and Daisuke still fought him every step of the way. Mrs. Ichijouji still made them snacks and baked them cookies every time they hung out at Ken's apartment, and Jun still annoyed them endlessly till Daisuke yelled at her to go jump in Tokyo Bay.

But everything had shifted slightly.

When they shut the bedroom door, there were lips and tongues and teeth and hands, and Daisuke could barely believe the development. Somehow, Ken was the braver one when it came to this aspect of their relationship. He had no problem straddling Daisuke's lap, slipping his hands under his shirt, touching every inch of skin allowed. And apparently, he also had no problem leaving a hickey over Daisuke's pulse point.

Which was maybe—definitely—the reason Daisuke was wearing a turtleneck sweater under his uniform on Friday. And desperately hoping he didn't get docked points.

Of course, that didn't stop Hikari and Takeru from sending him weird looks the moment he arrived in their classroom. They probably didn't think he owned a turtleneck—he had spent all his time that morning digging it out of his closet and barely made it on time.

As much as Daisuke hoped the weirdness would stop at looks, he should've known better. He just wasn't that lucky.

"Um, Daisuke-kun," Hikari said when they took a break after approving the final menu for the ramen shop the class had thrown together for Odaiba's cultural festival. "That's a nice sweater."

He refused to meet her eyes. "Thanks."

"You wearing it for any particular reason?" she asked, trying to sound uninterested but failing. "It's not your normal style."

Daisuke shrugged. "Just something I had laying around."

Takeru dropped into a seat beside them. "Something wrong, Daisuke-kun?" he asked without preamble.

For a moment, Daisuke blinked at him. "What?"

"You've been in such a good mood this week," the blond said, shrugging one shoulder. "And today you're just…" He shook his head. "I dunno, on edge."

He laughed. "You're imagining things. I haven't been any different this week—or today."

Takeru raised a skeptical eyebrow.

But it was Hikari who looked unimpressed. "You've been more energetic than normal. And you haven't flinched at anything Miyako-san's said all week."

"Really," Takeru added, "you've been glowing."

Heat rose to Daisuke's cheeks. "I guess it's just been a good week."

The words sounded like a line, even to him.

But he and Ken hadn't talked about when they would tell the other Chosen about their brand-new relationship. There was a huge difference, after all, between Ken's classmates seeing them together and the other Chosen realizing they were more than best friends now. Announcing their relationship could completely change the dynamics of their team.

Sure, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops until the whole world knew, and Daisuke was notoriously bad at keeping secrets. But the last thing he wanted to do was upset Ken by spilling to their friends without consulting him.

Besides, as much as Daisuke cherished his friendships with Hikari and Takeru and sometimes Miyako and Iori, he rather liked keeping their relationship to himself for now, keeping Ken to himself. When it was just the two of them, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness, no pressure to figure out what they were doing before they were ready.

Hikari frowned. "We've barely seen you all week. You always head out as soon as we finish homeroom for soccer club or to see Ken, but we usually hang out Wednesdays at least."

"Glowing, Daisuke-kun, you've been _glowing_." Takeru sent him a meaningful look. "And you've got a pretty bright blush going on right now."

"No, I don't!"

"Did you get a girlfriend?" he demanded, leaning forward in his chair. "Are you seeing someone?"

"What? No!" Daisuke's cheeks grew a darker shade of pink. "Why would you think I have a girlfriend?"

But Takeru's face broke into a grin. "You are! You're seeing someone. Who is she?"

"Why didn't you tell us, Daisuke-kun?" Hikari asked, eyebrows knitting together, hurt flashing across her face.

Mouth agape, Daisuke didn't know what to say, but after gathering together his thoughts, he finally managed to stutter, "Because there's nothing to tell. I don't have a girlfriend."

At least that second part wasn't a lie.

Before they could argue, he cleared his throat. "Are Taichi-san and Yamato-san coming to the festival tomorrow?" He glanced between them and was glad their faces shifted with the conversation.

Takeru grimaced. "Nii-san probably won't make it. He has practice tomorrow afternoon. But I think my mom will stop by for a little bit."

Hikari took a moment longer to adjust to the subject change. "Onii-chan and Okaa-san will be here, of course," she said slowly. "What about your parents, Daisuke-kun? Or Jun-san?"

"Ken's going to be here," he said instead, allowing the excitement to seep into his voice.

No point telling Hikari and Takeru his parents didn't know the festival was the next day. When he first let them know about it a month ago, his parents had nodded and then continued their previous conversation. Why bother to remind them?

Hikari laughed. "Yes, Daisuke-kun, you've only told us a million times since you two realized our festivals were on different weekends."

"It'll be nice to see him," Takeru said with a nod. "You always run off to Tamachi, but the rest of us barely get to spend time with him."

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "Don't get mad at me for you not making an effort."

"We will actually get to hang out with him while he's here, right?" the blond asked, raising an eyebrow. "You won't keep him all to yourself?"

He shrugged. He definitely couldn't make that promise.

Hikari and Takeru continued talking, but Daisuke's thoughts were already drifting to Ken.

Since he was joining Daisuke for Odaiba's cultural festival the next day, Ken had spoken to his mother about coming to stay the night both Friday and Saturday. Mr. and Mrs. Ichijouji were either very understanding or far too trusting to let their son stay the entire weekend with his boyfriend, but considering Ken's parents assumed they'd been together longer than they actually had been and never had a problem before, that wouldn't change.

Daisuke would meet Ken and Minomon at the train station after school, and then they would have all evening to do whatever they wanted. Jun would probably go out with her friends like she normally did on Friday and Saturday nights, and his parents were out of town for the weekend.

And that's how Daisuke preferred it.

When it was just him and Ken, he didn't have to worry about laughing too loud or being pushy or making a fool of himself because, for some reason, Ken seemed to like him no matter how stupid he was.

*

Daisuke stopped by the apartment to change before heading to the train station. He was glad this November was cold enough his scarf didn't seem conspicuous—although pairing it with a set of blue cargo shorts didn't exactly make it inconspicuous either.

The instant Ken stepped off the train, they were glued together, side to side, hip to hip, hands clasped between them as they walked back to the Motomiyas' apartment, Minomon tucked in Ken's free arm and an overnight bag slung over his shoulder, a pink blush on his cheeks.

"Are you nervous? For tomorrow?" Ken asked, sending him a glance behind his curtain of black hair. He curiously eyed the sky-blue scarf but didn't ask.

Daisuke had to resist the urge to slide his fingers through the shimmering locks, to sweep them behind his ear and reveal more of Ken's pretty face. After the first couple days, they decided to keep their affection more subdued in public, but Daisuke always had trouble not showing exactly how he felt at any given moment.

He cleared his throat. "Nah, of course not."

Minomon shifted in Ken's arms and smiled. "Daisuke doesn't get nervous, right?"

He nodded, though his tense chest told him otherwise.

The eager questions from Hikari and Takeru flashed back in his mind. The accusations that he had, of all things, a _girlfriend_.

Sure, he'd never _openly_ crushed on a guy before, but Ken was hardly the first guy he'd seen that way. Although, he'd definitely never felt this strongly for one before. For anyone really.

"There is something," he said, casting a quick glance at his boyfriend, irritated by how anxious he was to bring this up. "Hikari-chan and Takeru were saying I've been in a really good mood this week"—Ken smiled softly—"and Takeru got all nosy and asked if I was seeing someone. And I realized we haven't talked about that. About telling them."

"Oh," Ken said, brow furrowing.

The apartment building was in sight now, and soon, they were climbing the stairs. It wouldn't take long before they were inside the warmth of the Motomiya home, and then they'd get distracted before they could finish their conversation.

"Ken?"

He sighed, hesitating on the landing for the fourth floor. "I've thought about it a little, but I don't know. Are you ready to tell them?"

"Yes," Daisuke answered immediately, then paused. "And no."

Ken smiled at him, and they kept going. "Well, if we _are_ ready, I suppose we could tell them at your school's festival."

He nodded.

"We might not have another opportunity for a while if we want to do it in person," Ken said, then frowned.

Since everything was currently quiet in the Digital World, they didn't get together with the group very often. Daisuke saw them often, even Iori who was still in middle school, but Ken was still stuck in Tamachi and Daisuke was the only one who made regular effort to see him.

"What's wrong?"

Ken shook his head. "They're our friends—we really shouldn't throw this at them in public."

The apartment was warm and quiet when they got back. Neither of Daisuke's parents were there, and if he were particularly lucky, Jun would already be gone. The boys kicked off their shoes by the door—one more exuberantly than the other—and Minomon went on a determined search for Chibimon before Ken discarded his cardigan.

"Okay, not in public," Daisuke said as he hung up the indigo cardigan. "When will we have the time to do it then?" He snatched up Ken's overnight bag and led the way to the bedroom.

Ken followed. "I don't know."

Inside the room, Daisuke dropped the bag by his desk. "It's not like it's a rush—"

A hand snaked around his wrist and tugged him back—and the next thing he knew, his back was flat against the bedroom door, pressing it shut with a _click_ , and Ken's mouth was on his, working and plying until the shock wore off and Daisuke could respond.

Like all the times they'd kissed so far, Ken led.

Daisuke liked the bold way he took control, the ferocity with which he kissed, the adventurous temperament he acquired while holding Daisuke in his arms. The boy who was too often timid and reserved held no reservations when he sealed their lips together, and distracting him from his goal was nearly impossible.

Ken nipped at his lip, his hands slid down Daisuke's sides to grasp his hips, and he released a pleased hum when Daisuke whimpered into his mouth at the pressure of Ken's thigh against his groin.

Only six days ago, Daisuke was concerned anything rigorous might break the lanky boy, even though Ken kicked his ass nearly every time they went against each other on the soccer pitch. Now, Daisuke clung to him, reveling in his agility and strength, desperate for his hot mouth and swift tongue and the soft jut of his hips.

Ken was impatient today, and he dragged Daisuke across the room and pushed him down on the bed—then climbed on top and kissed him again.

Cold fingers slipped under his shirt, and Daisuke hissed at the contact. But that didn't slow the way Ken pushed the T-shirt up over his chest, his intention clear—

He pulled back, lips twisted in a frown. "What the hell do you have wrapped around your neck?"

Daisuke laughed. "You should know what a scarf looks like. You wear them all the time."

"But you don't."

Slowly, Ken unrolled the sky-blue material wrapped around his neck and dropped it on the floor. The T-shirt followed next, and he spread his fingers over Daisuke's tawny skin with a reverent smile. Fingers trailed up to locate the reason for the scarf—the love bite from the day before was already fading, though unmistakable.

Their eyes met.

Flushed, Ken smiled, Daisuke grinned, and they met in the middle for another kiss.

It was slower this time, deliberate, soft. Daisuke buried his hand in Ken's silky hair, and Ken cupped his cheek and delved his tongue in his mouth.

Daisuke clenched his eyes shut when Ken broke away a moment later and kissed down past his jaw, lips closing in on the tender skin of his throat. A low moan slipped from his mouth, and hands shaking, he grabbed for the buttons on Ken's gray button-up shirt.

While Ken had taken to exploring more, Daisuke still hesitated. As far as he was concerned, they hadn't been together long and they had all the time in the world to get to know every aspect of each other. But at times like these, with Ken on top of him, straddling him, sucking on his neck, skimming soft fingers across bare skin, his body writhed with the need to get better acquainted.

He moaned when Ken began to rock his hips, hands gripping the shirt where he'd managed to undo the top three buttons, and when teeth bit down on his collarbone, he gasped. "Ken," he tried, voice hoarse, "can we—?"

The door burst open.

"Oh, hey, Ken-chan, I didn't realize you were here already," Jun said in a cheerful voice as they scrambled apart and Daisuke snatched a shirt—not the one he'd been wearing—off the floor.

"What the hell, Jun?" He tugged it over his head, inside out and backward. "Ever heard of knocking?"

She shot him an unimpressed glower but continued as if she hadn't walked in on them undressing each other. "Oh, Daisuke, I just wanted to remind you Mom and Dad will be in Osaka all weekend for that article Dad's writing."

"I know."

"They left already. A couple hours ago."

"I know."

She examined her nails, studying the cuticles. "So they won't make it to your stupid school festival thing tomorrow."

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

"Actually," she said, sounding utterly uninterested, "I probably won't either. I'm heading out soon. I'm meeting Momoe-chan and Sakura-chan to go to this new club in Shibuya, so I won't be home till super late."

"You already told me all of this," he snapped.

Jun shrugged. "Then this entire conversation serves as a reminder."

"No, this serves as a giant waste of time."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is there something else you'd rather be doing—or _someone_ else?" Her eyes flitted to Ken, who was sitting close to the foot of the bed, shirt haphazardly buttoned, back against the wall, Minomon and Chibimon curled against his thigh, a pink blush on his cheeks.

Daisuke grabbed the nearest object from his desk—a half-empty bowl of chips—and flung it at her as heat rose to his face. "Go away!"

Jun stepped out of the way just in time for the hard plastic dish to hit the door—after spreading a line of chips across the hardwood. "Jeez, no need to get upset. I'm just being a good older sister and making sure you guys are set for the night." She pressed a finger to her lips in concentration, eyes wandering the ceiling before asking, "Before I go, do you two need condoms?"

He lunged for the soccer ball on the floor. This time he didn't miss.

She shrieked when the checkered ball smacked against her arm and darted out of the bedroom, out of sight. "Shit, I'm not gonna stay here if you're getting violent!"

"Good riddance," he yelled after her retreating shadow. "Nobody wants you here anyway." He scrambled off the bed to reach the door. "I hope you get so trashed you're sick for three days again. Because I'm not fucking taking care of you this time!" He slammed the door shut and leaned against it, making sure to twist the lock into place this time.

With Jun gone, the room fell silent.

Daisuke released a deep sigh before turning to face his boyfriend and their Digimon. He was unsurprised to find that, while Ken and Minomon looked particularly uncomfortable, Chibimon had fallen back asleep. He was far more used to the vast number of arguments that filtered through the apartment, whether it was a childish spat between siblings or his parents arguing about work or money or his grades or whatever else they argued about these days—Daisuke had learned to tune them out a long time ago.

"Sorry about that," he said with a sheepish shrug.

But Ken looked more worried than uncomfortable now, and he shifted Minomon away before rising from the bed and crossing the room. "Daisuke…" He laid his hands on his shoulders and gave a light squeeze. "You don't have to apologize. And if you ever want to talk about how your family treats—about your family, I mean—I'll always listen."

"There's nothing to talk about," Daisuke said, ignoring the sharp look his boyfriend sent him. "Let's just figure out what we're having for dinner, okay?"

*

Most mornings, Daisuke struggled to wake up. He was in a perpetually bad mood for the first thirty minutes or so.

That wasn't the case that Saturday morning, but it probably had something to do with waking up in a tangle of limbs, surrounded by the scent of jasmine and citrus and something that was uniquely Ken.

They hadn't shared a bed the previous weekend, and this was the first time he'd stayed the night since, but dear god, Daisuke had no plans to go back to sleeping alone. Not with Ken's arms wrapped around his torso, one of his hands light against the skin of his back under his shirt, and Ken's cheek pressed to his sternum, ear to his heart.

Daisuke slid his fingers through the beautiful black hair, and Ken sighed, snuggling closer, hot breath permeating his cotton shirt.

Yeah, there was no way he could go back to Ken sleeping on a futon on the floor after this, and it wasn't even intentional. Ken had fallen asleep reading while Daisuke played _Space Invaders Revolution_ on his DS, something he'd bought himself for his last birthday with money he'd saved up for a while—the handheld console was decidedly better than anything his parents had given him. When Daisuke was ready to pass out, he didn't have the heart to wake up Ken, so he'd set the book on his desk next to the DS, flipped off the light, and lay down next to his best friend and boyfriend.

The alarm went off.

He tried to be discreet while rising to turn off the blaring noise, but Ken inevitably noticed, clinging tighter and burying his face in his chest with an irritable moan.

Daisuke settled back down, wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured.

Ken hummed in approval, the vibrations reverberating through his chest.

"I have to get up. The festival, you know." But he didn't let go.

With a determined sigh, Ken leaned back and looked up to meet his gaze with bleary eyes, blinking slowly. Even with sleep in his eyes, tangled hair, and morning breath, nothing and no one was more beautiful than Ken.

Daisuke cupped his cheek and ducked his head to cover his lips with his own. The kiss was slow and a little uncoordinated but perfect, and all too quickly, he was lost in Ken's mouth, in the feel of fingers digging into his back as Ken surged forward to deepen the kiss. But the moment Ken moaned, unrestrained and wanton—

That was when he knew he had to pull away or he'd be severely late to school. Being late wasn't an option today.

Slowly, he pried himself free, panting, and tucked a few stray strands behind Ken's ear. "Shit, you're going to make me late, Ichijouji," he managed to say between breaths. "You should get some more sleep. Festival's not open till ten anyway."

Ken frowned, lips full and pouty and bright pink from their kisses.

"Don't worry," he amended. "We can stay in bed all day tomorrow if you want."

His boyfriend's eyes brightened at that, a mischievous glint that made Daisuke far too turned on to admit.

But when Daisuke crawled out of bed a few minutes later—they may have exchanged a few more lazy kisses—and saw the clock, he swore and scrambled to get ready. Even after the monumental effort he'd made to stop before he and Ken got too into their make-out session, he was going to be late.

*

Daisuke slid into the classroom the moment the bell rang and leaped to where Takeru and Hikari were standing on one side of the room. The desks and chairs that were normally spread around the room were set up for the ramen shop already, as they'd done at the end of the previous day, and the room was divided to keep the kitchen area, near the teacher's desk at the back, was out of sight.

"There you are," Hikari said when he slumped against the wall next to her.

"Jeez, Daisuke-kun." Takeru shook his head. "Cutting it pretty close, aren't you?"

He sent them a glare, then shifted to face them. "Slept through my alarm." No sense in blaming his tardiness on Ken, especially when it would just bring up questions he wasn't prepared to answer.

But then Hikari's gaze caught on him, her eyes widening. "Uh, Daisuke-kun, you've got a little something…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Takeru took a closer look, then his eyes widened too and his mouth twisted into a smirk. "Your girlfriend left you a present, Daisuke-kun." He quickly smothered his laughter behind a hand as their teacher took to the front of the classroom to say a few words.

"What?" Daisuke hissed. "I told you, I don't have a girlfriend. What the hell are you talking about?"

Hikari pulled a handheld mirror from her clutch and offered it to him, pointing toward her neck.

Shit.

He knew exactly where to look. The hickey from two days prior had mostly faded—it wasn't that bad anyway, though still noticeable—but a second hickey from last night stood out dark and purple against his golden skin, only a couple centimeters above the old one, and a fainter third one, also new, lay at his collarbone. The bigger one was more noticeable than the first had been yesterday.

"Shit."

He turned to the others for help, but Takeru was no longer bothering to hide his laughter. Hikari at least looked sympathetic.

"You have makeup, right, Hikari-chan?" he asked, desperate. Something to cover it up should be simple.

She nodded, but she didn't look relieved. "I don't think it'll work with your skin tone."

He groaned. "Still, it has to be better than this, right?" He gestured wildly to the dark hickey, ignoring the sharp look their homeroom teacher sent their way, but that only made Takeru laugh more. "Shut up," he snapped, voice low. "I can't look like this for the festival."

With a sigh, Hikari undid the knot at her throat and tugged the kerchief from around her neck—thankfully, it was a golden yellow as opposed to her normal pink. "Wear this. No one will notice."

Daisuke glared at her. He was pretty sure everyone would notice, but he didn't have the luxury of arguing. He accepted the scarf, and she helped him tie it around his neck.

Beside them, Takeru couldn't stop snickering. "So that's why you wore that hideous turtleneck yesterday."

Daisuke glowered at him.

"Are you going to admit it yet?"

"What?"

"That you're seeing someone," Takeru answered in a sing-song voice.

The rest of the room, in the wake of their teacher's welcome speech, was starting to get to work on the final setup for their ramen shop, and Daisuke jumped at the opportunity to distract them.

"You know," Hikari said as they followed him toward the mock kitchen, "Ichijouji-kun's going to be here today."

Daisuke frowned. "And?" He was the one who told them Ken would come and the one who invited him in the first place.

"Oh, is he?" Takeru practically radiated glee. "Well, if anyone knows who you're seeing, it'll be Ichijouji-kun. We'll have to ask him."

But Daisuke stopped mid-stride and spun round with his deepest glare. "Leave Ken out of this."

Takeru cocked an eyebrow. "Aren't you overreacting a little bit?"

"Aren't you being a little nosy?" He tapped his foot angrily on the linoleum floor. "Ken doesn't know any more than you do, so leave him alone."

But Takeru saw straight through that logic. "If he doesn't know anything, what's the harm in asking him?"

"Because…"

Unfortunately, Daisuke didn't have an answer. Anything legitimate would give it all away, and frankly, he'd never been a great liar. Not when it mattered.

And Ken mattered more than anything.

He spluttered, looking away, pink rising to his cheeks, before finally settling on: "Ken doesn't need you to bug him the whole time he's here."

Takeru snorted. "Yeah, but _you_ bug him all the time."

Daisuke turned back to him with narrow eyes. " _I'm_ allowed to."

"What makes you so special?"

"Because I'm Ken's—"

But he couldn't exactly shout to the whole class that he was Ken's boyfriend. Not if they were going to tell them in private. Not if Ken was supposed to be there when they announced it to the rest of the Chosen. Not if he wanted to keep Ken's trust.

"Best friend?" Hikari suggested, her brow furrowed.

His eyes lit up. "Right. I'm Ken's best friend."

It was still true. Becoming a couple hadn't changed that in the slightest. But he should have thought of that himself instead of standing there like an idiot.

Takeru and Hikari were giving him weird looks now too.

"I still don't understand how you managed to weasel your way into that position," Takeru said, but he dismissed the thought as soon as he'd spoken it. "Let's get to work."

Daisuke huffed as they passed him, then forced down his frustration and followed them. They didn't have much time to finish everything.

*

Ken arrived not long after the festival began, but as Daisuke was working in the kitchen, throwing together ramen orders with another guy in their class, the only reason he knew was because Hikari told him when she returned with an order for another table: "Ichijouji-kun just walked in. Takeru-kun's showing him to a table."

Although Daisuke had felt antsy all morning, that feeling increased tenfold now that he knew Ken was so close. Especially since the last time he'd seen him was in his bed—and the implications of which weren't lost on him.

When Takeru came back a couple minutes later, he jiggled a slip of paper between his fingers with a grin. "Ichijouji-kun's order," he announced, hooking it in.

Daisuke snatched the paper from him before it was secure. "What did he order?" His eyes scanned the paper, and he frowned. "What the hell do you mean he only wants miso soup and edamame?" He shook his head vigorously and slammed the paper on the counter. "Not good enough," he snapped and finally turned back to Takeru. "Tell him he'll get what I give him when it's ready."

Takeru cocked an eyebrow, but something about the way Daisuke spoke sent him out of the kitchen without a word.

Daisuke got right to work.

He and Hirano Sakae still had a couple orders to fill before Daisuke could work on Ken's, but they didn't take long. Then, he dove in, ignoring Hirano in favor of putting together the best ramen Ken could imagine, dammit. He probably hadn't eaten any breakfast because he didn't want to impose on the Motomiyas' hospitality—never mind the fact that Daisuke would've stuffed his face if he'd been there.

The ramen, of course, didn't take long, and when Takeru returned, Daisuke pushed the bowl, along with a small dish of edamame, into his hands. "For Ken," was all he said before getting back to work, desperate to hide the sudden flush that rose to his cheeks.

But Takeru paused, the dishes of food in his hands, brow furrowed. "This isn't what he ordered, Daisuke-kun."

He waved the concern away. "Ken doesn't know what's good for him."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "But you do?"

Daisuke jutted out his lower lip as he examined the next order to fill. "Of course I do."

"All right then," Takeru said, suddenly cheery, and he started back toward the dining area. "This is great, Daisuke-kun. Maybe he'll be so pissed at you he tells me all about the nonexistent girlfriend who gave you that giant hickey."

Daisuke nearly dropped the slip of paper, fumbling to grab it, but by the time he looked up, Takeru was gone.

Beside him, Hirano snickered. "You started seeing someone, Motomiya-kun?"

Daisuke glared at him and returned his attention to the food.

Not long later, after they caught up on orders and no one new had entered, Daisuke got the chance to slip out of the kitchen for a little while.

Ken sat at a table near the door, Takeru in the open seat across from him and Hikari leaning on the back of Takeru's chair. Ken looked somewhat uncomfortable, but he was eating the ramen Daisuke had made specially for him. He had to smile at that.

There was an open spot by Ken next to the wall, but he didn't want to be too obvious, so he settled for standing at the end of the table, one hand on the back of Ken's chair, the other on the tabletop.

Ken looked up with a bright smile, all discomfort washing away. "There you are, Motomiya."

Daisuke grinned. "How's the ramen?"

His best friend—boyfriend—sent him a scathing glare. "You know it's not what I ordered."

"But?"

The irritation faded. "I will admit, it's quite good. I thought—"

"Who cares about the food?" Takeru asked, leaning forward. "I want to hear the gossip, Ichijouji-kun."

For a moment, Ken blinked at him.

"Oh, come on." The blond shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "We all know you know who it is, and it's only fair we all know. Tell us! Who's the unlucky girl?"

Ken's eyebrows jutted downward. "Girl?"

"Yes," Takeru said, irritation slipping into his tone. "The one Daisuke-kun started seeing. The one who gave him that enormous—"

"I told you," Daisuke snapped, leaning toward Takeru sharply, "I don't have a girlfriend. Will you drop it already?"

Takeru turned to him with a smirk, but before he could say anything, Miyako burst into the room, a sack of goodies in her hands.

"Hey!" she cried, seeing the group together already. Her grin widened at the sight of Ken, and she pushed her way past Daisuke and nudged Ken toward the wall. "It's great to see you, Ken-kun." She leaned toward him, smiling brightly, as he pulled his food over with him.

Daisuke tried not to glare at her for shoving her way between them, for pushing Ken into a corner, for separating him from his boyfriend—who Miyako had had an on-and-off crush on for the better part of four years.

Based on the strange look Hikari sent him, he wasn't sure he was successful.

"What's in the sack?" Hikari asked, thankfully redirecting the conversation.

Miyako smiled at her Jogress partner. "I come bearing gifts from my class's ice cream parlor." She pulled out a few small tubs of different flavored ice cream with a proud grin. "I wasn't sure you guys would make it over, and since I had a little time, I decided to bring you some."

"That's so sweet, Miyako-san," Hikari said.

With a smile, Miyako leaned to her right. "Oh, Ken-kun, what flavor would you like? I brought some of everything—matcha, vanilla, sakura—"

But Ken shook his head. "No, thank you, Miyako-san," he said, retaining his cool exterior despite the discomfort in his eyes. "I'm quite content with this ramen."

Pride and affection puffed up Daisuke's chest, and he grinned when their eyes met momentarily.

And then Takeru spoke.

"Actually, Miyako-san, maybe you can help," he said, folding his hands atop the table. "Daisuke-kun started seeing someone, but he won't tell us who. Any ideas about the girl's identity?"

Miyako's eyes lit up, and she turned her attention to their resident goggle boy. "No way."

Daisuke scowled. "What does that mean, Miyako? I could totally get a girlfriend if I wanted one."

Her eyes darted toward Takeru and Hikari. "Are you sure?" She turned her attention to him, studying him through her thick glasses. "Because I can't imagine any girl actually wanting to date Daisuke."

" _Hey!_ "

But Takeru grinned and tugged Daisuke over by the wrist. "Well"—he rose just enough to yank the kerchief up—"someone had to give him _this_."

Ken and Miyako gaped at the dark purple bruise—apparently Ken didn't realize he'd caused that much damage during their intense make-out session last night.

"It's nothing," Daisuke snapped, yanking the kerchief back into place as a fierce blush spattered across his cheeks. "Hasn't anyone ever told you to mind your own business?"

" _What?!_ "

Apparently Miyako had found her voice again.

Daisuke groaned, burying his burning face in his hand. "Just say it, Miyako."

"How the hell did _you_ get a girlfriend? There has to be some mistake," she cried, arms flailing. "How are you the first one of us to start dating? What the hell happened to make the world turn on its axis? This makes no sense."

Takeru released a sigh of disappointment and let go of Daisuke's wrist. "So you have no idea who it could be?"

"Of course not!"

The blond slumped in his seat. "Dammit." Then, his eyes lit up, and he turned back to Ken, determination in his posture. "But I'm sure you know who it is."

Daisuke slammed his hand on the tabletop, jaw clenched. "God, Takeru, will you butt out? It's none of your goddamn business."

The table fell silent, and everyone turned to him with wide eyes.

Okay, maybe he overreacted.

But Takeru seriously needed to leave him alone for once. Daisuke had told him multiple times to drop the subject, but like always, his weird hat-obsessed friend completely ignored everything he said and refused to listen. Apparently his protests were inadequate.

Finally, Hikari's face softened, and she moved around Takeru's chair to come closer. "Daisuke-kun," she said in a hushed but direct voice, "are you seeing anyone?"

He squared his shoulders. "I'm not lying. I don't have a girlfriend."

She studied him for a long time while the others looked on in silence, and after a good minute or so, Hikari pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Okay, I believe you."

Daisuke let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and gave her a grateful smile. "I need to get back," he said, nodding toward the space cordoned off for the kitchen. His eyes glanced over the rest of them, holding Ken's gaze long enough to shoot him an apologetic smile, and he walked away.

Back in the kitchen, Daisuke sent Hirano a sheepish smile before falling back into place to catch up. Of course, he'd only slipped out because they were slow, but he'd been so distracted by Takeru's pestering and Miyako's belligerent disbelief that he stayed away longer than intended.

Hikari followed not far behind, a new order slip in her hands. "You know, Miyako-san thinks we should all hang out tonight after the festival," she said, hooking the paper into place. She sent him a small smile. "You have time for that, Daisuke-kun?"

He scowled at her, still far too irritated to deal with the group.

"I'll make sure Takeru-kun behaves himself," she promised.

Daisuke pursed his lips. "And Miyako?"

But Hikari laughed, but there was a tension in it not typically present. "You know I can't make promises about Miyako-san. The two of you will always butt heads."

"Yeah, but can't you get her to keep her hands to herself?" he snapped.

Hikari frowned. "What do you mean?"

"She throws herself at Ken every second she can. It makes him uncomfortable, but he's too damn nice to say anything." He finished the next order and slid the two bowls of ramen onto the counter.

Well, that wasn't entirely true.

Okay, yes, Ken was nice. He always strived to be kind, though it wasn't difficult for him to achieve. But more importantly, even with the other Chosen, he never wanted to ruffle any feathers. Part of him still worried about being accepted in the group, and he tried his hardest to fit in, even when he was uncomfortable.

"Ichijouji-kun already said he thought it was a good idea," Hikari said in a quiet voice.

Daisuke frowned.

Of course he did. Of course he gave in the moment it was suggested, trying to please everyone. Typical Ken.

But what would he say anyway? _No, I don't want to hang out because I'd rather make out with my boyfriend_?

Yeah, that'd be a bad idea.

Saying no when everyone knew Ken was staying at Daisuke's house tonight would've been conspicuous, and while it was unlikely anyone would draw conclusions from that, it was possible.

"Daisuke-kun?"

He sighed. "Yeah, sure. If Ken's all right with it, I'm game."

It's not like he had a choice really.

With a grin, Hikari stepped around the stove and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'm glad."

A flush rose to his cheeks, and he swatted her away. "I'm trying to cook, Hikari-chan. Stay out of the way."

She only smiled at him—and then something in her face shifted, and she hovered closer. "One last question, I promise."

He shot her a scowl.

"What about a boyfriend?"

"Huh?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

He could only gape at her, his jaw working but no noise coming out.

Of course, that just made Hikari's smile widen. "Don't look at me like that, Daisuke-kun. It's not a ridiculous question."

He cleared his throat and finally managed to speak, his voice squeaky and uneven. "Yes, it is."

"You only ever said you don't have a girlfriend," she said with a shrug. "You never said you aren't seeing anyone. So the question stands: Do you have a boyfriend?"

Daisuke spluttered. "That's crazy," he insisted, even as his blush came back. "You're insane, Hikari-chan. It _is_ a ridiculous question."

All she did was raise an eyebrow, grab the two bowls of ramen from the counter, and waltz back into the dining area.

Daisuke scowled at the noodles under his nose, then took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, but when he caught Hirano's curious eyes, he glared. "Don't say a word."

*

By the time Daisuke was able to get away, Ken had been waiting in the makeshift ramen shop for three hours without complaint. Once he changed back into his uniform—sans jacket and tie and, screw it, not bothering to use Hikari's kerchief to cover up anymore—they walked around the rest of the school.

Odaiba High School's cultural festival wasn't nearly as elaborate as Tamachi's had been, but there was still plenty of food to try, games to play, and trinkets to win. This time, though, it was Daisuke who struggled to focus.

Ken bumped his shoulder as they walked down the lane, concern etched on his face.

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking about?" he whispered.

Daisuke sighed. "Did we decide on a plan for meeting the others?"

Ken's arm brushed his as they walked, and their fingers grazed. "They're coming over once the festival is over." His long fingers glanced against Daisuke's again—definitely not an accident.

"Coming over? To my apartment?"

He nodded.

Irritation jolted through Daisuke, but it was the most obvious place. "Do they have to come over?" he grumbled. "This was supposed to be our weekend. Just the two of us."

A smile graced Ken's face. "Yes, well, I'm afraid our alone time will have to wait." He came to a stop, and Daisuke paused beside him, standing close enough they were touching. "Don't you worry, though, Motomiya. I'll come up with something extra special for after they leave."

His eyes widened, and Ken held his gaze with intense eyes. "What?" he finally managed. "Are you going to take advantage of me, Ichijouji?"

Ken's face split into a smile, a flush of pink darkening his cheeks. "Is it taking advantage if you want me to do it?"

He swallowed hard. "And how long exactly are they staying?"

He released a peal of laughter. "It is your home. You can kick them out whenever you want."

Daisuke looked away, gathering his thoughts, trying to ignore the pulse of anticipation. "Are we going to tell them? We'll be together as a group in private. That's what we wanted, right?"

Ken frowned. "Do you want to tell them?"

They've already had this conversation, of course, but something about Ken's tone suggests he's reading between the lines—something he's always been good at when it came to Daisuke.

"I don't know." Daisuke looked down as their hands brushed again, and this time, Ken slid their fingers together and held tight. "Once we do, everything changes. Is it crazy if I want to keep this just ours for now?"

Ken frowned, but he nodded. "No."

"Maybe…" He swallowed, but he couldn't look Ken in the eye. "We could just see how it goes and maybe tell them before everyone leaves?"

Ken squeezed his hand. "If you think that's best."

*

Daisuke groaned as he pushed open the Motomiyas' front door. He probably should make sure the apartment is clean before everyone came over. He never bothered going out of the way for Ken anymore—his best friend never seemed to mind whether the apartment was messy or clean as long as they spent time together.

Ken closed the door behind them, and they slipped off their shoes and padded toward the bedroom, quiet as possible.

With any luck, Jun was passed out in her room, recovering from whatever the hell she did with her friends last night, and Chibimon and Minomon were probably napping as well.

The door to her bedroom cracked open as they passed.

No such luck.

Jun peeked out, makeup smeared, hair stringy and flattened on one side, groggy and a mess. "Fuck, why are you guys so noisy?" She clutched the door jam like it was the only thing holding her upright.

Daisuke glowered. "We're not noisy. You're just hung over." As he paused, Ken darted ahead and slipped into his bedroom. "Have you eaten anything? Pain meds?"

She buried her face in her hand but still managed to laugh. "Aww, little brother, do you care about me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just trying to prepare you."

She cocked her head.

"We've got friends coming over in a bit, so there'll probably be some _actual_ noise in half an hour."

"Ugh, why?" She moaned against the door frame. "Wouldn't you rather just play with your little boyfriend alone in your bedroom? As gross as you two are, it wouldn't hurt so damn much." Her eyes clamped shut, and her face tinged green till she got her breathing under control. "He's way out of your league anyway. You should really take advantage of that before he realizes what he's gotten himself into."

Daisuke frowned, but he didn't have the heart to argue anymore. "Just go back to bed."

"When do they get here?" Her eyes peeked out. "Do they know?"

Unease settled in his stomach. "Not yet."

That seemed to give her a second wind, and she uncovered her face to meet his gaze. "You gonna tell them tonight?"

He shrugged.

"Oh, hell no. I can't miss this." With renewed enthusiasm, Jun dragged herself from her room. "I want to watch the exact moment they realize it isn't some big joke. It's going to be fucking hilarious."

Daisuke stared as she headed down the hallway into the bathroom. A moment later, the showerhead started.

He marched into his bedroom, making sure to lock the door after he snapped it closed, and tried not to let it bother him. Tried not to let any of it bother him.

Frankly, though, she was right. They'd tell the others, and nobody would believe him. They'd think he convinced Ken to go along with it as a joke, to get them to stop asking questions about the stupid hickeys. They wouldn't take it seriously. They wouldn't take _him_ seriously.

"What's wrong?"

Daisuke sent him a sharp look. "How can you do that?"

Ken offered him a soft smile and lifted a sleepy Minomon from his lap to meet Daisuke by the door. "It's incredibly easy to tell how you're feeling. You wear your emotions on your sleeves, and right now, you're upset. Was it something Jun said?"

He crossed his arms and pouted. "That's not fair. You just magically know what's bothering me before I have a chance to process any of it."

"It's observation, not magic," Ken said, amusement lacing his voice. But when he stepped closer and his finger traced Daisuke's jaw, lifting till their eyes met, he was serious. "Frankly, you can see right through all my defenses too, Daisuke."

He bit his lip, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him, but a flush rose to his cheeks.

"What did she say?"

Daisuke hesitated, leaning into the soft fingers still touching his jawline. "Nothing really. Nothing worth talking about." He groaned. "But instead of throwing her hungover ass back in bed, she decided she wants to look presentable while sticking her big fat nose where it doesn't belong."

Ken hummed to confirm he was listening as he slipped closer, one of his tall legs sliding easily between Daisuke's, his free hand hovering at his waist. "Tell me what's wrong," he said, threading his fingers through the burgundy locks. "Talk to me."

He bit his lip, and his eyes fluttered closed. "What if…what if I think we should wait? To tell them, I mean." When Ken didn't speak or stop running his hands through his hair, he continued: "I'm just worried it's not the right time. Especially with Jun, you know, being a brat. And you know, you might—"

"I might what?"

He asked in the softest voice, but it gutted Daisuke. What he'd been about to say simply gutted him: _You might change your mind. You might not want me anymore._

Daisuke shook his head, but his voice trembled when he spoke. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters."

But instead of waiting for an answer, Ken dropped his head and slanted his lips over Daisuke's, and the fingers in his hair scraped against his scalp, grazing down until Ken's hand cupped his cheek. The kiss was slow and deliberate and deep, and like always, Daisuke allowed his boyfriend to hold the reins, choosing instead to fist his hands in Ken's shirt and try to hang on to his sanity.

"Are you trying to distract me?" he asked, breaking away.

Ken gripped the front of his shirt and dragged him toward the bed. "Is it working?"

Not wanting to admit it, Daisuke shook his head, but any attempts to play it cool were lost the moment Ken dropped onto the edge of the bed and reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt.

His breath came in short bursts. "What are you doing?"

Half the shirt was undone before Ken murmured, "Helping. I know how much you want out of this uniform." He leaned forward to press a kiss to his sternum, and his lips trailed behind his fingers as the skin was slowly revealed, pausing at the bottom, at the waist of his pants.

Ken pushed up slightly, enough to nudge the shirt off his shoulders, and Daisuke allowed the dress shirt and jacket to slide off his arms.

But Ken didn't stop there.

Daisuke's hand tangled in the beautiful black locks of hair as Ken's delicate fingers tugged at the button of his uniform pants, and his breath quivered. "Don't…you don't have to do that."

The zipper slid down next.

"I know," Ken said, voice tender and soft, and he eased the pants over his hips and down to his ankles. "I want to help."

Daisuke clamped his eyes shut the moment something grazed the bulge beneath his boxers. "Fuck, Ken, you can't do that." He took a shaky breath. "We talked about this. Didn't we talk about this?"

"I want to see you," Ken murmured. "I want to see all of you." His fingers curled under the elastic band at his waist but waited.

But Daisuke could never deny him anything.

When he nodded, Ken tugged the elastic hem and slowly pulled the boxers all the way down. He stepped out of them and the pants and kicked the clothing aside, then gasped as cool fingers traced down his shaft.

"Beautiful," Ken murmured, and he surged forward to press a kiss to the head—leaving Daisuke panting with want.

"Ken," he groaned, fingers tightening in silky black hair. "Really, you don't—"

A hand slid around, taking hold of him, and his knees nearly buckled at the feel of someone touching him for the first time, of _Ken_ touching him for the first time. A long moan slipped from his mouth as the hand, all smooth and soft with long, narrow fingers, pumped him slowly.

Then, something hot and wet enveloped the head, and for one moment, he was sure he'd died.

His legs trembled, and Ken guided him forward onto the mattress, reclining with the movement, until Daisuke was straddling his narrow frame, knees on either side of Ken's rib cage. Daisuke gripped the wall to keep from falling, but all he could focus on was the steady hand pumping his shaft, the slender fingers digging into his ass, the hot tongue swirling around the tip.

"Ken," he panted, trying to catch his boyfriend's attention, but he was too busy to listen. "Fuck, Ken, you can't—I'm gonna…"

Ken hummed in acknowledgment but didn't slow, didn't pull away—not until Daisuke was limp and pliant in his arms, completely spent.

They lay on the bed, Daisuke tangled around and half on top of him, and Ken ran his fingers through his hair and pressed soft kisses to his mouth. Daisuke buried his face in the delicious scent of Ken's hair and murmured incoherent words of affection in his ear, and Ken traced a line down his side, gliding over the naked skin from his shoulder down to his hips, stopping so he could grip Daisuke's firm ass.

Daisuke moaned into his neck and pulled back to meet his eyes. "Ken," he said, eyes still hazy, voice thick and deep, "you didn't have to do that. It's been a week, just a week."

"I wanted to." Ken allowed his eyes to wander the naked body next to his, still fully clothed, before returning to meet his gaze. "And I assure you, I want to do it again."

Daisuke's breath hitched. "Ken—"

A loud knock sounded on the door. " _Daisuke!_ "

That was Jun.

"Yeah?" he called out, but he cringed when his voice cracked.

Not that she seemed to notice.

"Your friends are just sitting here waiting for you, baka."

He winced and slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Be there in a sec."

Then, Jun giggled. "What the hell are you two doing in there anyway? This is hardly the time for you to mess around."

Daisuke choked, and beside him, Ken was deathly pale.

But Jun didn't say anything else—her footfalls receded.

"Shit." Daisuke scrambled to his feet and yanked on his boxers, then grabbed something more comfortable to wear. He dressed quickly, not realizing Ken was watching until he glanced over.

To his credit, Ken didn't seem bothered by the fact that he hadn't lost even one piece of clothing, and the bulge that had previously tented his skinny jeans was no longer obvious. The only hint of his arousal was the hazy look in his eyes as he watched his boyfriend cover up.

Once dressed, Daisuke hesitated, eyes caught in Ken's heady gaze, and instead of heading for the door, he crossed back to the bed and tugged Ken into a deep kiss.

Slowly, they separated and headed for the door to meet their guests.

*

Hikari, Takeru, and Miyako were all sitting on the couch in the living room when Daisuke and Ken emerged, hopefully looking far less guilty and panicked than Daisuke felt. Jun was in the kitchen getting drinks for everyone and looking far more chipper than before she'd bathed. Probably because she enjoyed Daisuke's pain.

Oh, god.

His room, he realized, shared the same wall as the sectional couch, where their three friends were currently sitting. Had they heard anything?

Shit.

The trio brightened at the sight of them, looking somewhat uncomfortable without their host.

"There you are," Hikari said, relief lightening her voice. "We were starting to worry, you know."

Daisuke raised an eyebrow, hovering by the door. "How long have you guys been here? Jun only just said something."

Ken silently dropped onto a vacant section of the couch, and Daisuke followed him, instead choosing to stand and lean against the spot behind him. They stayed like that, separated from the others by a few meters and separated from each other purely by the couch between them.

"We've been here for at least ten minutes," Takeru said, frowning. "Your sister said she knocked when we first got here but you didn't answer."

Daisuke frowned.

If Jun had knocked, they must have been far too distracted to notice. _He_ must've been far too distracted by Ken's hands and lips and tongue, by Ken seeing him naked for the first time and touching him like he worshipped him and—

Okay, no more going down that road.

More than likely, though, Jun had only said she knocked just to mess with him. Because that's exactly the sort of thing she'd do.

"Stupid sister," he muttered under his breath.

Ken cleared his throat. "Where's Iori-kun? Could he not make it?"

Miyako shook her head. "He already had plans with his grandpa tonight," she said with a sigh. "I guess that's what we get for throwing this together at the last minute."

Then, Jun came out of the kitchen with a tray of snacks and a bunch of bottled waters.

Everyone thanked her, but Daisuke could only glare. "Stop pretending to be nice," he snapped as she moved past him, heading back for the kitchen.

She donned a shocked expression as she turned to him. "What are you talking about, little brother? I'm always nice."

"Bullshit."

But Jun simply grinned at him as she slid closer and threw her arm over his shoulders. "Oh, Daisuke, is that really how you want to treat me right now? I mean, it's not like I know any deep, dark secrets that you don't want to tell your friends, now is it?" She poked him, prodding at his neck with a devious smirk. "I'd hate for something to just slip out."

He shrugged her off, eyes narrowing. "Fuck off, Jun."

"Oh, I hadn't even thought of that," Takeru said, twisting open his water bottle. "Of course Jun-san knows who you're seeing. This is perfect." A grin spread across his cheeks.

Hikari sent him a look, and he held up his hands in surrender—but it didn't change the twinkle in his eyes that said the topic was far from dropped.

Especially when he had Miyako and Jun on his side.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Miyako said, grabbing a few pretzel sticks. "I mean, what could be so wrong with the girl that you want to hide her from the rest of us?"

"Yeah, Daisuke," Jun said, a lilt in her voice, "what's wrong with the _girl_?"

Miyako chomped on her stick. "It's not like we expect you to waltz around with a supermodel, Daisuke. And you're way too abrasive to convince one of the _nice_ girls to date you." She sighed. "There's nothing to be ashamed of if she's just completely average."

"Is that why you won't tell them?" Jun cocked an eyebrow, her hands clutching the back of the couch. "Because you're ashamed? That poor girl."

Daisuke gritted his teeth and jutted his elbow out, shoving her. "Go away. How the hell are you even okay enough for this? You could barely keep from throwing up an hour ago."

His sister grinned, even as she leaned against the couch for support. "It's amazing how motivating the idea of embarrassing you in front of your little friends is."

Miyako laughed—she was probably the one most used to Jun's "sense of humor" because of Momoe.

Hikari leaned forward in her seat, her face soft. "You're being awfully quiet, Ichijouji-kun. You all right?"

That immediately drew Daisuke's attention.

Ken smiled for the others and simply said, "I'm fine."

But Daisuke knew better.

He was tense and stiff, visibly uncomfortable, probably still thinking about the fact that their friends were out here while he was pleasuring his secret boyfriend just down the hall.

Daisuke leaned down and tapped his shoulder. When Ken turned to him, he smiled, hovering close to his ear to murmur, "I don't think they heard anything."

Ken shook his head. "That's not—" But then, he stopped, reconsidering. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "Yeah, you're probably right."

But he didn't relax any.

Daisuke's stomach clenched as he pulled back.

"I really don't see what the big deal is," Miyako said, frustration lacing her voice. "Just tell us already. I mean, it's not like it could ruin our opinion of you, Daisuke."

Takeru chuckled. "Hell, it might even raise our opinion of you." He turned to Miyako with a laugh. "Can you imagine if he started dating Ishii Kotori-san?"

Her face twisted with mirth, and she chuckled loudly, unable to contain herself. "Impossible," she declared through peals of laughter.

"Why couldn't he?"

Their laughter died, and everyone twisted to look at Ken.

"Why couldn't he date someone like Ishii Kotori-san?" He shifted in his seat, looking even more uncomfortable now that everyone's eyes were on him, but he pressed on, his voice eerily cool and collected. "Are you saying he isn't good enough for her?"

Takeru swallowed. "No, nothing like that. It's just…"

Miyako bit her lip. "She's just really popular. Probably _the_ most popular girl at Odaiba."

"So?" Ken raised a sleek eyebrow in a way that challenged them more than his tone.

Miyako tried not to laugh. "I'm sorry, Ken-kun, but have you _met_ Daisuke? He's loud and obnoxious and he never says the right thing—no offense—and Ishii-san is so sweet and kind and just the complete opposite of him in every way. Plus, you know, she's absolutely gorgeous—almost as beautiful as you are." Her face flushed bright red. "Uh, you know, just talking generally."

Ken clasped his hands on his lap, all business. "So what you're saying is, Motomiya could never convince someone sweet or kind or beautiful to date him?"

"Well, no, not exactly." Her brow furrowed, and she glanced at Takeru for help.

The blond shrugged. "Can you imagine someone like that giving him that giant-ass hickey?" He shook his head with a laugh. "Why the hell haven't you covered that monstrosity up, Daisuke-kun?"

Daisuke lifted his hand to touch the tender bruise on his neck with a frown.

Honestly, he didn't want to cover it up. Obviously, he couldn't have it out for school, and he didn't want people commenting on it, but it was also the only visible proof he and Ken were dating—the only sign Ken had claim over him, that Ken _wanted_ him.

"Sweet, kind people don't like sex?"

Everyone shifted, their eyes staring at Ken, even though he said the words in the most calm, nonchalant voice. Miyako looked like she was about to have a nosebleed.

"That's not what I meant," Takeru said, fumbling through the words. "Look, Ichijouji-kun, we're just joking around, teasing. Daisuke-kun knows that."

"I don't think he finds it funny." Ken leaned forward to grab a water bottle from the tray and twisted it open with finesse. "And I certainly don't."

The room settled into an uncomfortable silence.

Daisuke shifted, leaning down again, but this time he didn't stay quiet enough that only Ken could hear. "Come on, Ken," he said, his voice pleading. "It's not a big deal. We're just joking around like we always do."

Ken scoffed but refused to look at him.

"Seriously, it's fine."

"It's not fine."

His sharp tone sent Daisuke backward again, clutching the back of the couch to ground himself.

"And I don't care if it's what they always do," Ken snapped, his entire body tense, a slow quiet fury radiating off of him. "It's unacceptable behavior. For them to make you think…think that you don't _deserve_ —"

His body was quivering now, and Daisuke leaned close, pressing a hand to his shoulder, to say, "Ken, it's okay. You don't have to worry about me. I'm okay."

That did make him turn.

When their eyes met, Daisuke froze at the molten fury in his best friend's—boyfriend's—blue-violet eyes.

"Of course I have to worry about you," he said, his voice trembling as much as his shoulders. "You never worry about yourself. You always put your own feelings, your own happiness last, and to your own detriment. You're too busy thinking about what's best for the group, for the team, never expecting anything in return, that you never think about what's best for _you_."

"I mean," Daisuke stuttered, "well, that's not really true, you know. I think about myself plenty. Just the other day, I was thinking about whether I could get captain of the soccer team next year." He laughed, trying to make light.

But Ken wouldn't bite. "Which has far more to do with how you could help the team than how you could help yourself."

"Yeah, but come on," he practically begged. "Remember last week? When I forced you to eat that new ramen recipe I made and it was really gross? You almost lost your taste buds."

"Don't you dare try to convince me that _sharing_ something you made with someone you love makes you a selfish person, Motomiya."

"Yeah, but it was awful. And you didn't want to try it, and I practically forced it down your throat."

"Your unparalleled enthusiasm doesn't make you selfish either."

Daisuke bit his lip, fingers clutching the back of the couch so tight his knuckles turned white. "What about the other day when you wanted to watch that documentary, but I made you see a horror movie instead? I mean, that wasn't exactly selfless. I always talk over you, you can barely get a word in, and we always do what I want."

"That's not even remotely true," Ken snapped. "We take turns choosing movies, and I don't appreciate the idea that you can _make_ me do something against my will." He paused. "Besides, I rather enjoyed your attempts to reassure me. You also bought me ice cream afterward."

"I always rush into things without thinking," he tried. "Even if everyone else tells me to slow down, to stop and think about what I'm doing. I rush in headfirst and make a mess of things."

"Your single-minded determination has saved our lives on multiple occasions." Then, finally, Ken's voice softened. "Especially mine."

Daisuke opened his mouth to protest, then fell silent instead.

"That's how you saved my life, Daisuke. You were kind and earnest and brave, and you saved me." 

He shook his head, eyes falling shut. "I'm not as great as you think I am. I'm not…" But he couldn't find the words.

Instead, Daisuke pushed away from the couch and made for his room. If they were going to have this conversation—and he really didn't want to at all—they shouldn't have it in the middle of his living room with everyone else watching.

He needed to breathe.

Ken caught up to him before he could reach his door, grabbing him by the wrist to stop him. "Daisuke—"

"No," he snapped, tugging free. "Look, I'm nowhere near as smart as you or as nice or levelheaded. You're soft and gentle and the best person I know, and I'm just a mess. I fuck up everything I touch."

Ken's determination came back full force, and that pinned him in place more than physical form could. "Anyone who thinks _that's_ who you are has never taken the time to get to know you. You're not stupid or selfish or simple, and I will not let anyone—even _you_ —convince you otherwise."

When Ken pressed his hand to Daisuke's heart, firm but gentle, his heartbeat pulsed all the stronger for it.

"Besides, if you hadn't noticed, I rather like your messes," Ken said softly.

Daisuke's eyes fluttered up to find Ken leaning close so they were nearly eye to eye. He swallowed. "You deserve so much more than this, more than I can give you."

"Impossible." He found Daisuke's hand and pressed it tight against his own chest, so they could feel each other's hearts thumping in time. "We're partners, remember? We're in this together, no matter what, and our differences are what make us stronger. I couldn't ask for anyone better."

There was a half second where Daisuke wasn't sure what would happen next, but then the hand at his chest pressed him the final centimeters till his back hit his bedroom door and Ken leaned down and covered his mouth with his own. In the middle of the living room. In front of everyone.

Daisuke froze.

Then immediately responded, threading the fingers of his other hand through Ken's sleek hair and sighing into his warm embrace.

Ken didn't deepen the kiss this time, but he didn't back away either. He held him there, continuing long past reasonably necessary, pouring the depth of his affection through his smooth lips.

Not that Daisuke complained. Ken had never let him feel inadequate before, and he wouldn't start now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. :)


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